


Of Scales and Piano Keys

by Voice_of_Mischief



Category: Undertale
Genre: Basically, Sans/reader if you squint, Slow Burn, also abuse mention at some point, and Grillby comes to like them, and they come to like him, but love is scerry, i think, reader is a weirdo that comes to Grillby's a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voice_of_Mischief/pseuds/Voice_of_Mischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a man of few words. You weren't. He was calm and mellow. You were bubbly and spontaneous. He was curious. You were, too. </p><p>It starts when you become a regular that doesn't buy anything. It picks up when Sans befriends you. It becomes confusing when he starts feeling for you. It becomes complicated when you say you're done with love. It gets worse when you start feeling for him, too. </p><p>Also there's a snake. And a piano.</p><p>((No real plot, tbh. Just a series of events mainly from Grillby's point of view.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Regular Stranger

Grillby was used to seeing a usual round up of monster, a handful of humans, and then the ordinary curious folk who came in every so often but didn't find it charming enough to come back regularly. He could have told what day it was based solely on who came through the front door; the dog family came every Wednesday as well as every other weekend. Sans came, at the very least, every other day. The rabbit monster, bound to get tipsy, arrived every Monday and Tuesday, so on and so on. It was routine.

One day, you showed up.

You were a human, clad in a loose hoodie and jeans, a pair of sneakers on your feet, practically screaming of a relaxed night out. You opened the door, looked around, seemingly unaffected by the ragtag group of monsters scattered around, then crossed the room and sat at the bar. You dipped your head to him, then turned on your stool and gazed out over the bar.

He wondered, faintly, if you were waiting for someone. When he told you he'd give you a glass of water but he didn't touch the stuff- his usual opening to newcomers- you had simply smiled slightly and shook your head. Perhaps you wanted to order something when whoever you might be waiting for got there. It would be considerate, after all.

You sat there, watching the comings and goings of the bar, for several hours. That was all you did. Sit and watch everyone. At first, he was suspicious. But then, you held no obvious weapons, you were of no build to take on a whole bar, and you weren't giving any sign of aggression, not even when a monster sat beside you. As the crowd thinned, you stuck a hand in your pocket, placed a five on the counter, stood and left. 

Curious. He was not planning on seeing you again.

You came back the Saturday after that, same time, then left without having gotten anything, just as the crowd was thinning. The same happened Sunday. Then Monday. You didn't appear Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday, but you did appear the next Friday. 

It was always the same; you sat at the bar, faced the bustling floor, and did nothing else. It was as if you were people-watching, except in a monster filled bar. You seemed relaxed and slack while you sat, but you never dozed off or appeared lost in thought. Your eyes were always focused and curious. They were surprisingly childlike. When the place was near empty, you would stand and put whatever spare change or cash was in your pocket on the counter, then leave.

He came to accept your odd routine in the same way he accepted everyone else's. You were the first regular human he had. Besides Frisk, of course. 

For a time, he briefly wondered in the back of his mind if you were mute. He'd never heard you speak, not even when you declined his first few attempts to ask if you wanted anything. 

One night, though, he was proven wrong. You had been slightly tenser, somewhat fidgety the whole night, making a slight face. When one of the various monsters stood and waved as they headed out the door, you drew in a breath. You'd turned sharply to him, looking surprisingly serious.

"Call the cops for me, my phone is dead." 

Then you'd stood and quickly crossed the bar to the door, stepping out the door and veering sharply to the left. He wasted no time, simply directed the man on the emergency line to the bar's location, before removing his apron and heading for the door himself. While he wasn't sure of your character, you didn't seem the type to play practical jokes. As he walked around the bar, he noticed one smaller shadow slide across the front windows, then several larger ones followed it. Several other monsters started peering outside and one gasped.

When he stepped out, he found you standing on top of a dumpster at the edge of the alleyway, broken bottle in hand. Surrounding you like sharks was a group of burly, drunken men. He was faintly surprised you were holding your own as well as you were, but then, you had somehow convinced the thoroughly intoxicated men the bottle was a laser gun from the future and one blast would kill them. 

He would have chuckled if the situation wasn't what it was.

When you had spotted him over the top of the men, you had waved like you were greeting an old friend.

"Hey! Can you help me trap these guys in this alley till the cops get here? They wanted to beat up that little dog guy!" You had hollered over the tops of their heads, and they had turned to see who you were talking to. He had rolled up his sleeves and advanced towards them slowly, purposefully; of course, they had ducked into the alley like scared dogs.

The cops had arrived not too long afterwards and promptly took care of the situation. You had stayed to watch them drive away, and it was then that he noticed you holding your shoulder a little awkwardly.

"... Thank you." He'd said simply, not quite sure what else would be appropriate. Before he could ask if you were hurt or needed help, you responded.

"No problem." You'd shrugged, stuffed a hand into your pocket, then offered him the handful of change and bills. When he didn't raise a hand to take it, you'd made a slight face as if you were thinking, then ducked into the building. When he followed after you, he found you dropping the money onto the counter beside where he'd put the drying rag. Then you trotted across the bar again, giving him a friendly smile as you slipped out.

Curious. You were a very curious person. While it wasn't any of his business, he wondered if he would learn more about you over time, somewhere in the back of his mind. He wasn't the type to stick his nonexistent nose where it didn't belong, nor the type to instigate friendships, but part of him wouldn't mind getting to know you a little more.

(In case you hadn't guessed, yes, he would learn more about you as time went by, in the most curious of ways.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should finish those other two stories first, tbh... 
> 
> And yet I couldn't stop thinking about writing this,, Grillby is the kind of character I love; you can speculate about their character a lot, and, so long as you keep to what little canon there is about them, no one can really call foul! It's fun to do. 
> 
> //I apologize I am Undertale trash


	2. Regular... Philosopher?

It was the fourth week by the time he learned your name. Of course, it wasn't him to ask; he thought it simply wasn't his place. Rather, he found out by way of Sans and his endless probing, though you seemed kind enough to play along.

You were sitting at your usual space at the bar, two stools down from Sans' usual place. However, apparently the skeleton had had enough of not knowing why you came every day and had decided to deliberately sit beside you.

The skeleton had mentioned you to Grillby before, asking if he knew your name or why you appeared to just sit there and do nothing (not unlike Sans himself, the fire monster hadn't mentioned). When Grillby had simply shook his head and said you were allowed to loiter since you didn't cause trouble, the skeleton had not been satisfied.

"you really don't know anything, huh?"

"... They did defend Lesser Dog from a group of drunk men."

The skeleton had tapped his fingers, looking thoughtful. "so they're decent. got morals. that's good to know." 

Grillby knew what was eating him; Sans liked knowing. He knew each and every regular that came by the bar except you. And, as much as he might have said he was much too lazy for such things, Sans was bothered by not knowing and was willing to go out of his way to learn.

He'd caught your attention by purposefully knocking his usual ketchup bottle over in your direction. You had started at the noise, then turned to see what it was. Looking up to meet the skeletons gaze, you had propped up the condiment with a friendly smile.

"thanks, pal." 

"Not a problem." With another bright smile, you'd turned back to the open floor of the bar.

"Sans. Sans the skeleton." He stuck out his hand with a wink.

You'd chuckled, then put your hand in his and gave it a firm shake. "_________. _________ the human." And you'd mimicked his wink, bringing a laugh out of the skeleton.

Either you were a good judge of character or you were simply very friendly (and perhaps a bit naive) to whoever you met, Grillby noted. Acting so carefree and cheerfully innocent to one of darker character may have ended badly for you, especially at a bar.

"now, i hope you don't mind me saying i've seen you in here before but i've never seen you get anything. i'd recommend the fries if you're here for food, or are you just here to enjoy the view?" Sans slouched forward with another wink, propping his chin in his hand as he laid his elbow on the bar.

You'd laughed, then shook your head. "Sorry to say I haven't exactly been coming in to take in all your skeletal glory, dude, as... fun as that sounds." 

"bummer." Sans chuckled out. "what are you in here for? atmosphere?"

You'd smiled, turning to look at the bustling floor of the bar. "Something like that. The first day I came in, I wanted to find out what all those other people see in monsters to make them hate you guys so much." Your expression fell slightly. "I didn't see it. All I saw was... great people, in different skins. After the first day, I came back just to watch. This place... Almost feels like home, oddly enough. A busy home on a thanksgiving night. It's nice."

Sans eye brows rose slightly as you turned and rested your elbows on the countertop, staring down at it.

"I really don't get humans most of the time. I guess they're just afraid of things they don't understand. But then, they're still a minority, just... a very noticeable one. It's like that saying where you hand out megaphones to a group of people and ask a bunch of controversial questions. The ones that are going to scream and shout and stamp their feet aren't going to be the majority, they're just going to be more obvious then quiet ones. Make sense? Sorry. I've been rambling again." You'd laughed, though it sounded surprisingly hollow.

"nah, that was... surprisingly philosophical." Sans had responded, shrugging.

You were interesting. Very thoughtful, it seemed. It seemed you would be the type to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. You were also very expressive, he noted. Your eyes especially- like gateways to your SOUL, as cliche as it sounded. You gave a different perspective, to be certain. He hadn't thought of it that way before. 

"Well, thanks for listening, I suppose." You'd done a fake bow in your stool, then relaxed again, bright expression coming back as you, to his surprise, turned to Grillby. "By the way, I'm guessing you're the owner of this joint?"

"what, just because he's a fire monster?" Sans had snickered, probably looking to push your buttons. You slid him a bemused glance.

"Well, mostly because of the name tag, first of all. Secondly because he's the only guy I've seen working here and that seems to be a thing for hardworking small business owners." 

So you were observant. Though he already had assumed that. 

"... Yes, I'm the owner."

"Hey, I just wanted to say, first of all, that I find this place great and you've done a good job with it. Secondly, I'm sorry if I'm just that one annoying loiterer that hangs around but doesn't buy anything. Thanks for letting me hang around." You smiled, though it was as if you were expecting rebuttal. 

"I don't mind."

You'd blinked, looking surprised. "Really? You don't?"

He shook his head.

"That's a relief. I was afraid you were eventually going to call the cops on me at some point." You feigned wiping sweat off your forehead, then gave him a grin. He might have given a small smile back; it seemed your smiles were contagious. You were very bright; in an odd way, he found himself thinking you lit up the room. 

He found himself even more curious about you. Not consciously so; simply somewhere in the back of his mind, he found himself keeping an eye on you, an ear open for what you said. He wanted to know more about you, in much the same way Sans did, but for different reasons. You were indeed very much like a philosopher and he found himself somewhat drawn to that. Being a man of logical thinking and simple responses, he found how talkative you were proving to be... interesting. 

While he never had much to say, he certainly was one very good at listening; you were someone he wouldn't mind listening to, he found.

"So, ketchup, huh?"

"you gotta problem with that?"

"Nah. Never would have suspected it to be a skeletons drink, though. Is hot sauce like alcohol, then?" You snickered at your own joke as Sans chuckled.

"i guess you could say that."

"You said this place has good food? What was it you recommended?"

Sans shot a grin Grillby's way. Within a few minutes, the fire monster had returned and you were trying out the food. 

"Gotta say, this really is pretty great! All the times I could have eaten such greatness, all those precious opportunities lost!" You put a hand to your forehead dramatically. Sans chuckled. "Thanks for recommending it, and thanks to you for making it!" You gave him another smile, then popped another fry into your mouth, twiddling it between your teeth.

You spent the better part of two hours chatting with the skeleton, and, surprisingly, at times with the fire monster behind the counter. You asked about the underground, bounced some of your own jokes off some of Sans', and generally were very friendly and enjoyed the company of the the two monsters.

Eventually, you dropped some money on the counter, then slipped out the door with a friendly wave. Sans watched after you for a few moments, then turned back to Grillby. 

"they seem alright."

"... Yes."

"you got your thinking face on. what's on your mind?"

"..."

"alright, don't tell me. but i'm willing to bet we're gonna end up pals by the time the months over."

Grillby had a feeling you already were, but didn't say as much. He also had a feeling he could get used to nights like this.


	3. Philosopher's Snake

Several months- had it been two or three?- of time had passed since Grillby had learned your name. Since then, he'd learned a handful of other things about you:

You liked to discuss the meaning of life, myths and bedtime stories and the meaning they held, cooking, baking, blown glass, scented candles, the mysteries of the cosmos, warmth, art, and learning new things. You seemed to soak it up whenever Sans told you little stories about the underground, just as he and Grillby listened when you told little stories about the above. You loved to hear about their friends, Papyrus, especially. You often spoke about how you couldn't wait to meet them, if such a thing was a possibility. Oddly, you never mentioned your own family or anyone outside the bar. You also had a tendency to talk seemingly endlessly about a subject if it was one you had interest in; once you started, it often took a bit for you to stop.

That was okay. Grillby liked to listen.

"... I've always wondered about wormholes. Such an odd thing to come out of such specific circumstances, you know? Almost seems unreal. In a way, I always wanted to go through one, just to see what was on the other side. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'd die. But wouldn't it be worth it to know you at least tried?"

"i'd rather stay at home."

"Of course you would, lazy bones." You blew a raspberry to the skeleton beside you who chuckled in response. "But they say when you go into a black hole, all the light trapped inside scorches you in half a millisecond, all that energy's worth of pain in an instant, then you're gone. I wonder what that would be like taking into consideration the whole 'light at the end of the tunnel' thing."

"light at the what?"

"Oh, I guess it's a human thing. It's a saying about when you die..."

Grillby leaned against the shelf behind him leisurely, listening to one of you and Sans' newly infamous discussions. Sans didn't seem to mind your seemingly bottomless capacity for conversation, though it was clear that he, in a way, was relieved for brief intervals in your speeches.

You were very interesting. You went into what could be considered dark or gruesome territory with ease, then just as easily slid out of it. In a way, it was... refreshing. Though, whenever you caught yourself in such a tangent, you quickly shut up and apologized. You seemed to apologize a lot for being 'annoying' and 'not shutting up.' Grillby always shook his head. He found you charming. Pleasant. He didn't mind you at all.

It was when you were talking about how cool it was that trees could be told how old they were by their rings when he noticed something... odd. A movement near your neck, nearly hidden by the shadow of your hood. 

You didn't seem to notice it. He felt the impulse to draw your attention to it in case it was something of concern.

"_________."

You looked up in surprise. "What's up, hot stuff?" You grinned. Yes, you'd not called him by his name since that first day; always some fire related nickname. He found he didn't mind. 

He tapped his own neck in indication. It only took you a moment, then you absolutely beamed.

"Oh, you finally noticed Smithers!"

"'Smithers?'" Sans apparently didn't like being thrown out of the loop and peered at you as you dipped a hand beneath the collar of your hoodie. 

"Meet Smithers the snake!" You lifted out a long, coiling mass of scales that lifted its head and curiously licked the air.

Sans instantly recoiled, making a face at the long, slithery thing. "what... is that?"

"A ball python! Don't tell me they didn't have snakes underground?" You giggled as the mottled snake wrapped itself snuggle around your wrist and looked around slowly.

"no, we didn't have... whatever those are."

"Be nice, she has feelings. Come on, she doesn't bite." You shifted her from one hand to the other as she stretched her head out towards the skeleton. 

Sans leaned away. 

You smiled fondly down at the snake as it confusedly found itself back at square one. "She really likes it in here since it's so warm all the time. I'm kind of surprised you guys didn't notice her climbing all over me earlier. She's really active whenever I bring her in here, but I figured it wouldn't be exactly tactful to bring her out in a restaurant." You gave Grillby a sheepish grin, then held out your hands- thoroughly tied in the scaly mess- out to him.

He blinked down at the two bright eyes staring back at him, unsure what to do.

"Go on, give her a pet. She likes her head to be stroked especially. Don't worry, she loves the warmth." You waved the snake encouragingly, giving him a bright smile.

Hesitantly, he raised a hand and brushed his fingers against her snout. She was very smooth, more like marble then he expected. The snake stretched herself towards him further, seemingly searching for the source of the warmth. A little more confidently, he did it again. 

You giggled. "See, she likes ya." 

The snake finally stretched herself out too far and flopped onto the countertop, then looked up as if wondering how on earth that happened. With a laugh, you scooped her up again, tucking her in a pocket. 

"Come on, Sans, give her a kiss."

"no."

"Aw, Sans, why so mean?"

"i don't want to touch that."

"Rude."

Grillby chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as you and Sans started bickering. The snakes tiny, tawny snout poked out of your pocket, tongue flicking out as it looked at Grillby with its beady, bright eyes. 

They gazed at each for a moment, then, with another flick of its tongue, the python ducked back into your pocket. Part of him wondered if he had earned the reptiles approval. What an odd thought, he realized.

Curious. You were certainly were a bag of surprises. He adjusted his glasses, then looked to you again. You were laughing full heartedly, whole body rolling with it. Sans did not look so amused. A smile quirked his own face as you eventually calmed yourself and got back into arguing with the skeleton.

He was coming to find he liked surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of these are going to be short, tbh. Hope you don't mind.


	4. Snake's Painter

It was nearing the end of six months when Grillby learned something else about you.

It happened on one of your usual nights; Sans wasn't there, you had yet to arrive, but Grillby wasn't expecting you for another half hour or so. It was fairly quiet, with a handful of different monsters scattered around. Grillby was simply enjoying the calm of it, wiping down the inside of a mug.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and you rushed inside, quickly flinging yourself up and over the bar, skidding to a stop only to roll under the countertop at his feet. 

Surprised, Grillby cast a look down your way, raising a fiery eyebrow. You grinned sheepishly back, putting a finger to your lips and whispering out a breathless 'Shh!' 

Just then, the doors were opened again. A large, angry human cast a furious look around the bar, saw no human in sight, huffed and stormed out again, looking up and down the street.

You waited a few moments, holding your breath, then whispered "Are they gone?" When he nodded, you breathed a laughing sigh of relief and stood up, soon exiting out from behind the bar and sitting down with a few breathless pants. Your hair was in disarray and your clothes were disheveled, smears of color spattered across a bandana tied round your neck.

When Grillby shot you a look that more or less said he was never going to let you leave until he knew what on earth that was about, you breathed out an airy chuckle. Your hands fell to your large front pockets and pulled out two cans of spray paint. You gave a sheepish smile, shrugging.

"What can I say, not everyone appreciates art, eh?"

So you were a spray painter. Somehow, he was faintly surprised.

"You know those funky looking snake paintings you see around?"

After a moment, he nodded. Yes, he remember, the almost psychedelic snake paintings were littered across town. He'd always thought them to be a rather odd thing to go through the effort of making. From his knowledge, most people that did such things simply tagged at random. 

"Those are mine, as a tribute to Smithers. She's, uh, pretty great. She's helped me through some stuff. I guess that's a weird thing to say, but when you've been torn down to nothing and you're at the bottom, I guess it's someone with no legs that would be the first to help you up, huh?" You chuckled, but it was very different then your usual laugh, hollow and distant. It was as if you were inside your head rather then with the fire monster.

Torn down to nothing? He could hardly imagine you meeting rock bottom. But then, he didn't take you to be someone to lie about yourself. Or anything, for that matter. Part of him was wondering if there was another reason beside monster observing behind your first visit. Another part could not imagine you stooping to drinking any of your problems off.

But then, he'd never seen you to have many problems. You seemed to be a well rounded individual, and never were the type to burden others, instead being a voice of reason to any of Sans'- or the other patrons of the bar- problems. He was conflicted as to how to respond.

"... You're very talented." It was true; while the snake murals had been hard to interpret, they had been very nice to look at whenever he'd seen them.

"Thanks, Grillbert, I appreciate it, coming from you. You're a pretty great guy, you know?" You gave him a small, genuine smile, eyes flicking between his in all their expressive glory.

Something about it made his flames crackle faintly louder. 

"How've you been, fireball?"

"... Fine. And you? And... Smithers, of course." He gave what could be considered a dry smile, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You cracked a large grin, a mischievous look in your eyes. "Oh, you won't believe what Smithers got herself into yesterday..."

He gave a small smile of his own, more then content to listen to you as you proceeded to fill his own quiet with a long, drawn out story of a series of unfortunate events for your poor python. Now was not the time to probe into your life outside the bar; he simply wanted to bask in your bright, warm personality without having it disturbed by thoughts of whatever had troubled you before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this one is really short. Most of them probably will be. Oop. Sorry.


	5. Painter's Insomnia

Grillby got a taste of the side you didn't show by the time the seventh month was rolling by.

You came in not quite as energetically as you usually did, taking your spot beside Sans with a small smile to each of the monsters. There was a shadow across your face, settling faintly beneath your eyes and around your smile. Grillby had noticed it previously and brought it up to Sans who brushed it off as you most likely taking on more work lately; times were hard on everyone, not just monsters.

Even if it was a decent enough explanation, that didn't make Grillby any less concerned.

You were distinctly quiet that day. That concerned him more then anything. Sans was seemingly oblivious to the distracted look on your face, cracking a few jokes that you only laughed half heartedly at. It was nearing the end of the night, when your eyelids began drooping, that Sans decided to comment on your change of attitude.

"eesh, pal, you look like you're havin' a bad time."

You chuckled drily. "Gee, thanks."

"what's up?"

You seemed to hesitate. "Do you ever feel like we've done this before? Like we've done it a hundred times? Keep making the same mistakes, expecting something different, even without realizing it. Keep saying the same things, doing the same routines, all to end back at where we started. Keep thinking, 'Maybe it'll be different this time.' But it never is."

Silence greeted your words. Sans had long since fallen still, eye sockets dark and empty. For a while, nothing happened.

"Ah... Ha ha. Sorry. Got pretty dark for a second there. Guess I'm just... having one of those days." You rubbed at your eyes, then turned around and stood. "I'll be right back." You walked out the door without another word, leaving Grillby to stare after you. 

This was most certainly something of concern. He glanced briefly at Sans, who seemed to be deep in thought, then put the glass he'd been washing down and stepped out from behind the bar, heading for the door.

You were leaning against the wall just beside the windows, staring up into the sky while your breath came out in wispy clouds. It took you a moment to notice the fire monster standing beside you. 

"H-Hey there, Grillber. Sorry for... that." You tilted you head to look at him, then looked back up.

He shook his head. While he wanted to talk out whatever was troubling you, he wasn't sure where to start; normally, patrons did it all by themselves.

"... Do you ever feel like your life is a broken record? The same thing, over and over again. Same routines, same locations, same old people. Seeing all the familiar faces that hardly change. Thinking all the same thoughts. Saying 'it's okay, just don't do it again,' only for the person you're supposed to trust to keep doing it, over and over again..." You trailed off, eyes misting.

Part of him wanted to grab you hand. The other part was unsure as to how to go about it.

"You know, when I was little, I wanted to be a spaceman, just so I could get up there right next to all those stars and they could whisper to me all their secrets, tell me the meaning of life. More then anything, I was sure one day, one of them would choose someone to tell everything to, someone who could be trusted with all the secrets of the cosmos, and that person just had to be me. I was a pretty weird kid." You chuckled. 

He looked up, in the same general direction you were. A large, flickering star was visible through the street lights and his own flames.

"Hey, Grillby." 

He blinked. You hadn't called him by his real name in a long time.

You puffed out a plume of steam, smiling at the way it swirled away into thin air. "I guess I kind of lied when I was said I like being warm. I like the feeling of warming up after being really cold. Is that weird?"

Silently, he pulled you into an embrace. After a moment, you put your hands to his back and squeezed.

For someone made of fire, he was very solid. The most accurate description would probably be... It was like being hugged by a really warm heater. Except in the shape of a person.

"... If you ever need to talk, I'm willing to listen."

You breathed an amused sigh, leaning your head against him. "Thanks, Grillbz. I appreciate it, coming from you." 

After a few minutes of enjoying the quiet outside, you walked back inside shoulder to shoulder. Sans had disappeared from the bar and you made a face of guilt and shame.

"Looks like I scared him off. Oops."

You hung out for much longer then usual that night. Your obvious fatigue was dragging at your eyelids as the night went on, but you smiled as you chatted with Grillby as monsters came and went.

By the time closing time came around, you were asleep against the bar. 

Watching your chest rise and fall as your eyelids flickered, Grillby noted you looked very... calm in your sleep. Over time, he'd come to notice the way you put up a semi-facade around others; while your happiness was genuine, it could be faintly forced at times. Putting up a show so others didn't worry, he supposed. Without much thought, he reached out a hand and brushed his fingers against your hair.

You were apparently a light sleeper, as all it took to wake you was a hand on your shoulder and a whisper of your name. You blinked yourself awake, stretching as you stood.

"Whoops, sorry. Didn't mean to pass out on your bar like that." You gave him a bleary smile, then reached out and took one of his hands in your own. "Thanks for the night, fireball. I appreciate it." You gave his hand a pat, then turned and walked out before he could ask if you wanted a cab.

Not like he would have anyway. He was too busy thinking over how soft the skin of your hands was. 

It was then Grillby realized, with a resigned roaring of his flames, that he might have fancied you in more then the way of friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Reader isn't aware of past timelines. Just general depression stuff up in here. 
> 
> Two for the price of one; figured this could be compensation for the last one being so short.


	6. Rainy Days

Grillby had a- what he called rational- fear of water. It was a well known quirk. The man was made of fire; why wouldn't he be afraid of being doused? While it would take much more then a splash to snuff him out, it was certainly an irritating and faintly painful experience to so much as get caught in a downpour. Because of this, he often kept an a close eye on weather reports for the area.

Unfortunately, they weren't always accurate.

The sky clouded around late afternoon, started drizzling around dinner time, faltered back to a light sprinkle when you came in, then became heavier as the night went on. He was not looking forward to walking home.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying it. Despite having a folded up umbrella in hand and a hoodie on, you came in with damp hair and big smile, practically frolicking up to the bar to sit beside Sans.

Time had passed and you seemed to be back to normal, happy and chipper and seemingly forgetting whatever had troubled you before. Sans, too, had quickly recovered from the incident and went about as if nothing had happened, but Grillby noticed him watching you a little more closely. There wasn't anything hostile about the look; in fact, it seemed curious and perhaps a bit... soft. Empathic, almost.

Grillby was no fool; he knew his urges to hold your hand and the delight he felt when you directed a smile at him was anything but platonic. While he had been in a few relationships in the past, he still was uncertain as to whether he should approach you about it or leave it be. He was fairly content to stay your friend, and it seemed you held no feelings beyond those of the friendly variety for him, so he early decided to keep it to himself.

Now, he was no blind man, either. Sans might or might not hold you close, as well, and might or might not make a move at any time he pleased. The skeleton was much more confident in relationships in general, more eager to make a move if he so pleased. Grillby had noticed the half-disguised flirts he sent Toriel's way and did not doubt the skeleton could win you over if he so desired. But then, Sans was hard to read at times. Grillby could have been mistaken entirely.

Whatever the case, he did not regard the skeleton as a rival. If you got into a relationship with him, it would be of your own consent, and the fire monster respected that.

However, it seemed you saw Sans in the same way you saw Grillby: a close friend, nothing more. You never made any advances that could be mistaken as those of the romantic kind, never turned green when Sans chatted with other patrons of the bar in much the same way he spoke to you. While it seemed you were single- you'd never mentioned having a significant other, never mentioned going home to anyone but Smithers, no one ever came to pick you up- it also seemed you were not interested in getting into a relationship in the slightest. You appeared very happy with your life as it currently was.

"Hey, guys!" You chirped out as soon as you sat down, laying your unused umbrella across your lap. "Isn't it a beautiful day outside?" 

Sans snorted, lowering his ketchup bottle. "i think my definition of 'a beautiful day' and yours are very different, pal."

"Lighten up, Sans! The rain feels wonderful. It feels like it's been forever since we've had a good downpour." You twisted in your seat, casting a smile to one of the windows, littered with beads of moisture. When you turned back, you quickly gave Grillby an apologetic, sheepish smile. "Sorry. I kinda forget some times. That was... insensitive."

He shook his head; he'd long since grown used to comments on 'what he was missing out on.' Truthfully, he didn't mind it coming from your mouth. Somehow, it made it more tolerable. 

You and Sans fell into a comfortable bicker about whatever crossed your minds; it had become a tradition of sorts, you and Sans feigning disagreeing on everything. More often then not, it dissolved into laughter on both parts. When the laughter died down, you passed philosophical questions around the small group until you headed for home.

It was a nice routine. 

"Hey, fireball. What do you think about that theory about aliens? How there's so many different galaxies out there, with so many different planets, that of course at least one would have to have some form of intelligent life on them. Think it holds any water?"

He thought about it. "... I don't see why not."

You gave a small laugh. "Well, hey, if there were guys like you guys underground, I don't see why there can't be something else above." 

"i still can't believe you guys just forgot about us being underground."

"Well, there were like... campfire stories. We remembered, we just didn't think it seemed very logical, I guess. I mean, if people can doubt aliens, I suppose they could have also doubted you." 

"oh, yeah, cause trapping an entire civilization underground can just be forgotten."

"Hey, I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning, don't look at me."

The night went on smoothly, the rain outside growing steadily heavier. 

"... I just don't get why people don't like snakes. They're adorable confused little tubes. Is it cause they don't have legs? That's ridiculous. Is it the teeth? Like, I get the teeth are kind of scary, but people like cats and dogs just fine. I just can't figure it." You propped your chin in your hand, looking confused. Grillby, leaning his elbows on the bar across from you, gave a small smile at your rambling.

"Neither can I." He quirked an eyebrow at you amusedly. 

"I mean, literally they're just confused little babies with no legs. They have no idea how anything works. Or at least Smithers doesn't. I don't think she knows what a gravity is." Grillby chuckled.

Sans' gaze flicked between you and the fire monster, something dawning on him.

After a while, Sans got up and waved as he stepped out the door, drawing his hood over his head. You gave him a big smile as he went off, waving and shouting a goodbye as he left. For a while afterwards, you stayed and chatted with the fire man behind the bar.

Eventually, the crowd began to thin. It would be closing time soon.

You stood and stretched, umbrella in hand. "Welp, I think I've overstayed my welcome. I'll see ya, fireball." With a wave, you slipped out into the rain.

Not even half an hour passed before the bar was empty. With a sigh, Grillby straightened the place up and headed for door. It was coming down hard as he locked the door and he took a deep breath as he stepped out of the protection of the building, expecting to be pelted with the liquid death.

He was greeted with a ring of protection. Surprised, he found an umbrella hovering above his head, your arm attached to it. Standing just beside the entrance way, hood pulled up over your dripping hair, you gave a sheepish smile.

"Kinda figured you didn't have an umbrella, so I decided to wait for you." 

He blinked at you, standing in the rain like that. You didn't seem to mind it at all.

You waved the umbrella handle in his direction. "Here, take this." When he didn't move to take it, you waved it again. "Come on, I've got like a dozen of 'em."

"... You should be getting home." He still made no move to grab the umbrella. While he appreciated the gesture, his biggest concern was you falling ill.

"You know it's okay to drop the gentle man thing for special occasions, right? Come on, I know you don't like water. Just take it." You gave him a pleading smile, moving the umbrella in his direction yet again.

"..."

"Alright, fine, have it your way. I'll walk you home. You lead, I'll follow." You stepped forward to be halfway beneath the umbrella, arm almost brushing his as you gave him an encouraging smile.

After a moments hesitation, he gave in to your stubborn antics and nodded, turning to lead you to the apartment building in which he lived. While it may not have been the most luxurious of living conditions, monsters weren't exactly favored in house selling deals. The apartment he had landed had been a godsend; while not perfect, it was certainly nice. 

The walk was quiet, you only half way under the umbrella to avoid invading his personal space, him looking for the words to tell you he wouldn't have minded. You looked surprised when the familiar apartment complex came in sight, glancing at him questioningly. When he simply walked on, you followed with several glances cast his way.

You walked him up to the front door, where you both stopped. 

"You live in here?" You jerked a thumb in the direction of the doors, giving him an inquiring look. When he nodded, you burst into a laugh. "What a coincidence! I live in the one next door!" You pointed it out, a smaller complex just a short walk away. "You know, the cheaper, not as nice one." You gave a meek chuckle, shrugging sheepishly.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. Partly because he'd never noticed before, partly because it really was a curious coincidence.

"Looks like I have more opportunities to barge into your life from now on!" You gave a laugh, water droplets falling from your hair. "What room are you in, if you don't mind me asking?" 

When he passed the information onto you and you quickly tapped it into your phone in case your forgot, you gave him a bright smile.

"I'll be seeing ya, fireball!" 

With a wave, you jogged off into the rain, umbrella doing hardly any good tilted against your shoulder. It was only after he saw you skid into your apartment building that he turned and stepped into his own building.

He hoped you hadn't noticed his flames burning slightly brighter every time you drew close enough for your shoulder to bump his. Part of him looked forward to you having more 'opportunities to barge into his life.'


	7. Knock knock, neighbor

It was one of Grillby's few days off; he only allowed himself to stop working after a slew of good days since not working meant the bar was closed and wasn't getting any business. While this might sound like a workaholics idea (which it may or may not have been), Grillby had been considering- at both you and Sans' prompting- hiring someone he could trust to either share shifts with him or work a new shift entirely by themselves so he could fancy more days off. 

Of course, he was being very careful about said transaction. This was his entire business- his entire livelihood- we were talking about here.

He had already straightened up his entire flat twice over and was currently considering baking. Even on his days off, he still couldn't stand simply lounging around doing absolutely nothing for more then an hour or so at a time. He was thumbing through an old cookbook, pausing on one or two pages, as he leaned against the island in his kitchen, unsure as to what to make.

What surprised him was a knock on his door. What surprised him even further was that you were standing on the other side, a small dish balanced in one of your hands.

"Howdy, neighbor! Can I borrow a cup of sugar?" You gave a large, goofy grin that quickly dissolved into a sheepish, embarrassed one. "Thats... That's not a joke, by the way. I seriously need some sugar and the closest grocery store is closed." You averted your gaze, rubbing at the back of your neck.

He chuckled under his breath, surprise ebbing. You seemed to switch gears between being full blown eccentric to meek embarrassment faster then he could blink. In all honesty, it was kind of cute.

"Poor planning on my part, I was making creme brûlée and I only had enough sugar to finish... one." You held up the small dish in your hands with a small grin, shrugging. "You know how you're supposed to sprinkle sugar on top, then blow torch till it caramelizes and gets all nice and golden and you can crack into it like it's an egg? I only had enough to do that once. I really need to go to the store." You chuckled, looking away again. "But, hey, I wanted to give you one anyway, so I'm not just here for sugar! How's about it? A little bit of sugar in exchange for the first brûlée?" You gave a meek, hopeful smile.

With a nod, he turned and stepped away from the doorway, waving you inside. With a surprised expression, you trailed carefully after him, glancing around like a curious child. Part of him wondered if you liked his choice of residence. 

He led you into the kitchen, where you stood awkwardly beside the island while he pulled a bag of sugar down from a cabinet. When he turned back around, you had turned the book he'd left lying open on the counter and were flipping through it curiously, creme brûlée long forgotten beside it.

"I didn't know you baked."

His flames flickered brighter, faintly embarrassed.

"I've never been very good at it, but it is pretty fun to do. I bet you're pretty killer at it." You turned away from the book for a moment to give him an inquiring smile before turning back to the book. He watched you pause on one page, face brightening, before turning around to face him fully.

When he passed the bag of sugar to you, you stared at him as if he were insane. "I only need a little. Like, half a cup even." When he didn't say anything, you held it out to him as if hoping he would take it back. "Come on, this is ridiculous. I only need a little. I appreciate it, but I don't need it that bad."

He pushed it back to you gently, shaking his head. With a troubled but grateful expression, you tucked it under your arm. 

"Well, thanks. That's nice of you. Price of sugar has been pretty off the wall recently. Thanks. I'll be seeing you. Hope you like the creme brûlée." You headed for the doorway, then paused. "By the way, your place is nice." With a grin and a final wave, you slipped out the door, quietly shutting it behind you.

After a moment, he turned back to the book he was originally addressing. He studied the page you'd stopped on- several recipes for pies, one of which was pumpkin, which he assumed was the one you'd looked at (it seemed the sort of thing you'd like)- for a few moments, then turned and pulled out a mixing bowl, soon filling it with the different ingredients listed on the page.

While the pie was baking in the oven, he settled on his couch, your small creme brûlée in hand. He cracked it open easily, sticking a spoonful of the sweet concoction in his mouth a moment later.

Hm. While he hadn't tried many before, he had to say yours was very good. He would have to tell you the next time he saw you. At the same time, he found himself hoping you would like the pie you had helped him decide to make.

 

It was late. Night had fallen.

He was sitting on his couch again, only halfway paying attention to the book in his lap. His gaze drifted to he clock hanging idly on one wall. 8:43. With a sigh, he closed his book. That was another reason he didn't take many days off; he quickly ran out of things to do. He was standing to close his blinds when something caught his attention. 

It seemed he was not the only one who hadn't closed their blinds. Someone in the apartment building next door had yet to do the same, window glowing brightly in the darkness surrounding it. Someone was walking back and forth in front of it. 

What really caught his attention was the familiar silhouette. It was you, pacing back and forth in front of what seemed to be your living room window, book in your hands. A familiar long, thin shape was lifting its head from one of your shoulders, seemingly peering out the window.

Curious. 

With that, he drew the blinds and turned off the remaining lamp in the apartment before heading for his bedroom. Lying awake in his bed, staring up at his ceiling, he couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever spotted him from your window, as well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is clumsy and awkward because I forced myself to write it when I've been having a bad case of writers block. I am sorry.

Grillby wasn't known for being social. It wasn't what sparked his interest, per se. While he didn't mind interacting with others, he wasn't willing to go out of his way to do it.

However.

You were only a short walk away; that wasn't very out of his way. Besides, nearly a month had passed since the day you'd shown up at his doorstep, and in that time you'd walked home with him every night after Grillby's, shown up at his door quite a few times, and invited him over a handful of times. It was obvious you considered him a close friend, or at least more then just a bartender you tended to chat with to blow some time. It seemed acceptable to visit your own home to deliver half of a pie he'd recently made with you in mind.

As he walked down the hall he knew your flat was on, he picked up on a faint, almost soothing noise. It grew more distinguishable as a melody of piano and... was that a violin? as he grew closer to your door and he realized you must be the one playing it. It was very calm, sweeping and dipping through the air like butter. He found himself admiring your taste in music.

He knocked, then waited. Nothing. Knocked again, waited. Nothing. 

Perhaps you couldn't hear him over the music. Without much thought, he placed a hand on the doorknob and found it to be unlocked. He went hesitantly inside, eyeing the paintings of plants and ponds on your walls as he found his way to your living room. When he came to the doorway, he froze. 

You were dancing in a large, free space of the living room floor, Smithers sitting atop a stack of books nearby, swaying in tune with you. Your eyes were closed as you swept and dipped, swirled and turned in time to the music. While it was clear you were free styling, it reminded him of the grace of a ballerina. Your movements were relaxed and fluid and he found himself admiring the way you moved and quickly averted his gaze when his flames flared slightly brighter. 

It felt odd to be intruding on such a... private moment. After a moment, he coughed lightly, attempting to draw your attention.

Your eyes flew open and you promptly toppled to the floor, staring at him before flushing a bright shade of red.

"G-Grillby! I wasn't... I wasn't expecting you to be coming over. How long have you been there?" You gave a very embarrassed smile, soon up righting yourself and dusting off.

"... Not long. I knocked."

"Right. The music. Aha." You whirled around, soon slapping a record player until the music stopped.

"... You dance well."

You turned redder, looking away to hide it. "It's... It's a hobby I've had for a while. Kind of like yoga, ya know? Stretches everything out. Pretty fun, too." You wiped a hand over your face, then turned to face him with a smile. "So, what's up?"

He held out the wrapped half of the butterscotch pie he'd made earlier. You took it, giving him a grateful smile.

"Thanks, fireball. Here, I'll put this in the kitchen. Feel free to sit down." And you swept away, previous embarrassment seemingly forgotten. 

He sat hesitantly on your couch, Smithers flicking the air with her tongue beside him. He gently pet the length of her neck and she seemed to melt under the touch, relaxed and calm. She was sitting on top of a stack of what seemed to be science fiction novels, which didn't surprise him in the slightest. One book, lying on the coffee table, was precariously open for the world to see. Some faint, distant part of his mind was curious as to what it was.

The next moment, you rushed into the room, scooped up the book, and tucked it away somewhere. You sat yourself on the couch beside him, passing a glance his way. For a while, you sat in companionable silence.

"... You have nice taste in music."

You blinked, looking over with a small smile. "You think so? That used to belong to a friend of mine. He kept it because it was an antique, I think. Eventually, he just forced it onto to me since I kept asking to listen to it." You chuckled, cheeks tinting pink as you glanced away briefly. "But thanks." 

And then you suddenly stood up, and turned back to the record player, propping the needle up again. When the song flowed calmly out, you turned back to the fire monster with a smile and extended your hand. 

"Come on. Dance with me." 

His flames grew noticeably brighter, but after a moment of hesitation, he put his hand in yours. You pulled him to his feet and into a gentle turn, giving him a grin. 

"... I'm not a very good dancer."

"That's okay, neither am I!" You laughed, then took his hands in yours. "Come on, just put your hand here and follow my lead. Or do whatever you want. I have no idea how dancing works. Just have fun. That's what I always do." 

One of your hands on his shoulder, the other tangled in his while his other rested on your side, you led him a gentle glide across the free space of the floor. He was tense and stiff at first, not used to it, but with you giving him smiles every so often he found himself relaxing into it, soon turning and twisting in time to you.

As the music slowly tuned out, you let out a laugh as you spun away from him, then spun back. The next moment you had let go of his hand to remove the needle from the record and slip it back into a box filled with what seemed to be many other records. Smithers, now at your elbow, nudged you with her nose, making you scoop her up.

You turned and gave him an amused smile. "You know, for someone who says they don't dance well, you're pretty light on your feet, fireball."

He looked away, flames crackling louder. "... I could say the same of you."

You gave another laugh, sliding Smithers onto your shoulder before turning to your movie collection. "Want to watch a movie before you go?"

Eventually, you and he both settled into a documentary about the cosmos as the sun was sliding down the horizon. Smithers eventually found his lap and curled up there much like a cat, flicking her tongue out contentedly. Spotting this, you let out a chuckle.

"I knew she'd end up loving you." 

He couldn't quite stop himself from wondering if perhaps, just maybe, you'd end up loving as well. And it was then that Grillby had to admit it to himself; he was a mess.

A hot mess, if you will.


	9. Done with Love

"so, what's your relationship status?"

Hearing Sans ask you that question, Grillby nearly combusted the rag he was holding. 

He'd recently admitted- under the skeletons relentless questioning- that he did, perhaps, just maybe, favor you and possibly found interest in the prospect of dating you. The skeleton at first had teased him about it, attempting to mimic your voice with an onslaught of 'Oh, Grillby~ is it hot in here, or is it just you?' and the like. When he'd eventually gotten over the initial joking opportunities, he'd said that he could understand where Grillby was coming from and would be the best skeletal wingman this side of Mnt. Ebott.

Grillby did not have high hopes. And obviously for good reason. Sans was anything but subtle.

He turned his head just enough to give Sans a fiery glare, flames crackling rather loudly. While Sans just gave him a wink over your shoulder, he was relieved that it seemed you hadn't noticed how flustered he suddenly was.

"Relationship status?" You sounded amused more then anything. "Are you kidding?"

"nah, i'm not much of comedian. it's not what i'm known for." Sans pulled off a serious expression, looking at you as if you were a business client rather then a friend. It made you break into a laugh.

"Oh, please."

"come on, answer the question, i'm genuinely curious here."

You seemed to hesitate, looking away. "I'm, uh, not into the dating game anymore. Rather not jump back into that shark tank, thanks. I'd rather just be done with love."

"really? why?" 

"Do I really need a reason?"

"technically no, but the way you said it made it same like you had one."

You cringed, looking away fully. "And now I'm wishing I hadn't said anything at all. Let's just say my last excursion on the terms of 'love' did not turn out as I thought it would."

"what's that supposed to mean? cheating ex?" 

"No. Might as well have been." You hunched over the bar, expression souring further. Something dark and worrying swirled behind your eyes. "What at first were the reasons he liked me turned out to be all my flaws rolled up in bad habits. Rather then just admit I wasn't right for him, he tried to change me himself. And... not very kindly." You were whispering by the end, eyes cloudy. Your hands, Grillby noticed with concern, were trembling slightly.

Sans, looking uncertain, gently placed a hand on your back. "hey. sorry i asked."

"It's alright." You shook your head, drawing yourself out of your thoughts. You sat up, seemingly attempting to put on a happy face again. "In the past. Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Anyway. I suppose I might get back into the game at some point, if, like... Someone I could actually trust came along, you know?" 

Sans, looking relieved you didn't appear to be breaking into tears any time soon, chuckled. "ya, i get ya. i would be in the same boat."

"What about you, bony butt?" You chuckled, leaning over the bar to prop up your elbows.

"me?" Sans quirked an eyebrow at you, picking up his ketchup bottle.

"What's your 'relationship status'? Bonely?" Your lips curved up into a smirk at your own pun, making Sans break into a laugh mid-drink.

"single and okay with it, more like."

You chuckled. "And what about you, fireball?"

Grillby, now standing near directly in front of you, couldn't help the way his flames quickly roared into furious life. "... Me?"

"What's going on in your love life?" You laughed while Sans wiggled his eyebrows at Grillby beside you. It did nothing to calm his sparking flames. "Bet you're bound to get pretty hot under the collar at times, hm?"

Well, you weren't wrong, it just so happened that whenever it did happen that he got flustered, it was by your doing... "... I'm... single."

"Seriously?" You gave him a lopsided, disbelieving grin, quirking an eyebrow. Sans' gaze flicked between you, eye sockets crinkling as if he was fighting back a laugh.

"... Yes?" He was faintly confused. Did you doubt his honesty?

"I'm surprised. I would've thought you'd have people all over you. A cute, nice, stoic guy with an affinity for baking... You're practically a woman's dream boat, unless monsters are vastly different from humans." You snickered.

You'd called him cute. His flames cracked louder while he blinked dumbly at you.

"wait, wait, wait. baking? Grillbz, you bake?" Sans was beside himself, choked laughter leaking out from behind a hand. You tilted your head to look at him curiously.

"You didn't know? I thought it was a thing you did for friends, fireball."

Sans' eyes twinkled with the laugh now rattling his bones as Grillby turned promptly away to hide his reddening flames behind the pretense of washing mugs. 

"What? What's so funny about that?" 

Sans was laughing too hard to answer you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,, sorry it took so long lmao,,,


	10. Chapter 10

One day, roughly a year since your first visit, you didn't show up.

It came as a surprise. You were normally so adamant about showing up on your designated days, chatting with some of the monsters you had gotten to know, sometimes getting fries, sure to have a talk with the fire monster behind the bar, sure to brighten up his day with a friendly smile. For you to suddenly not appear... It threw him off.

He would have thought you'd at least call, considering you'd swapped numbers a long time ago. He knew you always fretted a lot over whether you were worrying people or not. You also fretted over whether you were being annoying, overstaying your welcome, talking too long about something no one cared about, but ever since you had admitted to having an (assumably) abusive boyfriend, you reassured both Sans and the bar owner you were fine and well over it whenever they asked if you were alright in regards to said subject, telling them not to worry about it.

Eventually, he and Sans had stopped asking. 

You had been been complaining about getting a lot of calls from a mystery number repeatedly as of recently. Part of him was afraid whoever was on the other end had found you and was doing something unspeakable with you even as he was thinking said thought, even as he knew the thought was ridiculous.

Ridiculous, but possible.

So, when closing time came, he had already decided he would stop by your apartment to see if you were home and okay and not kidnapped or being mugged in some dark alley where he couldn't even hope to find you. He would have never admitted that he let his imagination get the better of him. 

When he knocked on your door, he was not surprised that there was no answer, despite noting it was very quiet. Without much thought to it, he tested the doorknob. 

Open? His flames flickered brighter. 

He stepped into your apartment, which was still filled with light despite it being late. At first, he didn't know where to start, but then there was a faint sound from the direction of your living room. He quickly directed his footsteps in that direction, halting as he reached the doorway.

You were sitting on your couch, whole and physically perfectly fine, alone and untouched. You were hunched in on yourself, hands covering your face as you wept, crying, crying, crying into your palms.

It was enough to break his nonexistent heart. 

When he said your name, you quickly lifted your head to look at him. Your eyes were large and red from crying, eyes that used to be as expressive as a child's now expressing raw pain and shock and hurt and uncertainty.

"G-Grillby. I-I didn't know you'd..." You choked on the words, then ducked your head and brought your hands to your face again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He quickly crossed the room and sat beside you, raising a hand to lay across your shoulders but hesitating at the last second. "Are you alright? What's the matter?"

"Oh, Grillby..." You wept, shoulders lurching with the strength of it. "I lied, Grillby. I lied. I lied. I'm not over it at all. He called me, Grillby, I should have changed my number, I should have known better than this. I just don't know what to do. I can't stand it, Grillby. I just want to forget. I just want to forget." 

He noticed your phone, now, halfway across the coffee table as if thrown there in haste. It took him all but half a second to realize what exactly was going on: Your boyfriend, the one who had obviously done things of a dark nature to you, had found you and contacted you and it drove you to hysterics. 

If he ever met the man, he'd leave him some scars /he/ would certainly never forget.

He wrapped his arms around, drawing you into his chest. Your hands dropped from your face to clutch at his vest, tears evaporating from it mere moments after dropping onto it. He rested his chin on your head, rubbing your back as soothingly as he knew how. Had this been any other time, he would have been flustered at holding you so close and having you hold him in turn.

For a long time, he just sat there with you like that, allowing you to cry yourself out.

Eventually, he felt you take several deep breaths, then slowly pull away, wiping at your cheeks.

"... I'm sorry you had to see me like that. Normally I can keep myself under control, but hearing him again..." You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. "Sorry. You didn't have to, you know, do that. Thanks."

"... If you ever need me, I am here. I will offer my service, no matter what kind."

You chuckled weakly, a relief to hear. "You really are a sight for sore eyes, aren't you? Real gentlemen."

He patted your hand gently. 

"Thank you, Grillby, for... showing up. I appreciate it." You paused. "Why did you show up, anyway?"

His flames flickered brighter and he looked away slightly. "... I was worried when you did not show up as you usually do."

You gave him a faintly amused smile. "Aw, fireball, you care about me? I'm touched."

It was a sight for sore eyes, seeing you smile and chuckle and be almost normal again after all that crying. He vowed to himself that he would try to keep you smiling like that, through rain and shine, sleet or snow. Even as he knew he was making the promise of a man head over heels, he couldn't help but think it would be worth it to see that cute little smile of yours every day.

When Grillby returned to his own apartment nearly an hour later, leaving you in Smithers' caring, nonexistent hands, he paused to lean against his door before he headed to bed.

You were going to leave him an utter disaster, if you hadn't already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have writers block so,,, have an angst. It's soon after this that reader gains feeling for Grillby, so, while I still need to think of a way to make it happen, look forward to mushy gushy fluffy confessions in the future.


	11. Flour for his Valentine

You slid off your stool, giving Grillby a grin as you headed for the door. 

"Seeing you tomorrow, fireball?"

When he nodded, he couldn't help but appreciate the way you lit up, giving one last wave before slipping out the door. When he turned back to the skeleton still sitting in front of him, he was only faintly surprised to see his friend giving him a crooked grin, quirking an eyebrow.

"i thought you said you were going to be closed tomorrow." It wasn't a question, more of a statement. When Grillby didn't say anything, Sans continued with a smirk. "finally worked up the nerve to ask them out, Grillbz?" 

Grillby didn't respond, rolling his nonexistent eyes. This was nothing new. Sans had been teasing him mercilessly for fancying you for quite some time, saying the fire monster could be just the 'someone you could trust' that would break you out of your little love funk. Now, it was irritating more then flustering. 

"well, be sure to use protection."

Sans was on the floor with laughter when Grillby's flames shot to the ceiling and he rounded on the skeleton with a twitching, nonexistent eyebrow.

The fire monster had just about enough of this 'wingman.'

 

No, you and Grillby had not planned a date or anything of that nature. Rather, you had inquired about his pumpkin pie recipe, asking what made it so good, if he added something you didn't know about that made it so lovely. When he had shook his head, no, he didn't add anything special, you had huffed in disbelief. So, what else was he to do?

He invited you to come and bake with him to see for yourself.

He was pleased when you near immediately accepted the offer. You had even seemed eager about the idea, saying you had always wanted to see how he worked in the kitchen, which you had admitted was a weird thing to want and was probably something you shouldn't have admitted to wanting. He had waved it off with a chuckle, oddly flattered.

And now, here you were, side by side in his kitchen as you made pie crust dough. You leaned over his shoulder, one hand near his elbow as he worked, so close he could feel the gentle breeze of your breath and the faint heat- so different from his own- radiating off of you from the warmth of the kitchen. If that wasn't distracting enough, you had chosen that day to wear a tank top and shorts, which had proven to be a wise choice, since the kitchen was filled with the warmth of both his own flames and the oven.

He found his gaze wandering to the smooth planes of your arms, tracing where he could see dips and contours where the skin stretched over skeleton and fat and muscle, an ever changing surface as you shifted your weight slightly. 

"You okay there, fireball? You're zoning out."

He snapped his gaze back to what he should have been focusing on, and he gave a curt nod. How embarrassing, to be caught in the act of-

Of what?

Of checking you out? Of watching the way your skin stretched and shifted over your inner flesh? Of marveling at the human anatomy, which he was never truly impressed by until you worked your way into his thoughts? Of distractedly imagining what it would be like to run his hands up your arms, over your shoulders, up your neck, to your cheeks, through your hair...

"So, what's next? I'm not exactly practiced in pie making, but I'm assuming we roll out the dough."

He nodded, rolling up his own sleeves in an attempt to shake himself of his rather distracting thoughts. He turned to a cabinet briefly, pulling out a container of flour. He dusted a layer over a cutting board, then picked up a rolling pin. 

When you let out a giggle, he cocked an eyebrow at you.

"It's nothing, it's just... It's funny to see a guy like you doing something like this."

"A guy like me."

"Well, I mean..." You laughed, averting your gaze. "Big, stoic monster guy that runs his own business, a bar no less, baking. You pull it off well, by the way."

He would never have admitted that he cherished your praise as much as he did.

For a while, you worked on the dough together. You had fun, oddly enough. You seemed to like rolling tiny balls of dough between your fingers, as well as find amusement in the flour that soon coated your hands. At some point, you reached into the flour to sprinkle a fresh handful over the dough.

Unfortunately, you attempted to aim it over your shoulder and missed. It caught Grillby unexpectedly in the face as he trailed up to see how it was coming. It coated his glasses and smudged over his cheeks, sprinkling onto his shirt when he blinked in surprise.

You looked up, seeming just as surprised as he was. Then, you broke into a laugh, throwing your head back at the sight. 

"Whoops!" You eventually chuckled out, wiping away a nonexistent tear. "Sorry, fireball. Guess I wasn't looking where I was tossing." He silently stepped up beside you, dipping a hand into the flour and scooping up a little.

He then flicked it in your face.

You blinked at him for several seconds, then spat several times in an attempt to get the white powder away from your mouth. You attempted to swab it away from your eyes, but it was impossible when your hands were covered in flour as well. All the while, you were laughing.

Grillby found himself laughing along.

Eventually, he wet a hand towel and passed it to you. You carefully cleaned your face of the pesky white powder, then gave him a wry smile.

"You know, I'd thank you, but you're the one that got me in this situation to begin with." Then, you seemed to realize something. "Oh, here, hold on."

You put the towel down and instead reached for his face. For a moment, his mind flew to places it shouldn't have and his flames flickered noticeably brighter, sparking gently as you reached for his cheeks. Then, your fingers hooked around the wire frames of his glasses and gently pulled them away.

He stared at you through faintly hazy vision as you blew the flour off the lenses, then wiped what remained away on the tail of your shirt, seemingly not caring about it staining.

Having finished, you leaned forward and gently returned the glasses to where you'd gotten them from, fingers grazing over his cheek as they passed. He found his soul fluttering in his chest, threatening to rise to his throat.

"There we go. All better." 

And you flashed him one of those smiles he had come to find were his favorite to see- bright and happy and eager to please, eyes crinkling at the edges, expressive and bubbling over with all the things he could never put into words. 

Without thinking, he put a hand on your shoulder, then leaned forward and brushed a kiss to your forehead. 

When he pulled away and realize what he'd done, he couldn't help the way his flames pulsed brighter. Apprehension and nervousness rose in his chest and threatened to choke him as he studied your face, waiting for signs of confusion or disgust or distress.

Instead, you blinked at him, then gave a crooked smile. "A 'thank you' would have worked, but, hey, that's cool too."

He never felt so much relief in his entire life.

 

When the pie was finished and done cooling, you both sat at his small dining room table to try it. You were sharing a slice in companionable quiet, and he watched you out of the corner of his eye as you took a bite.

"It's still great, but we added everything in the recipe with no additives! I just don't get it, whenever I make it it's nowhere near as amazing. Maybe you just have the magic touch." You laughed at your own joke, and he found himself joining in.

"No. I think this one is better." He eventually said, having tried it himself. And he did, really. He wasn't just saying it to be kind.

"Oh?" You cocked an eyebrow at him, fork hovering near your mouth. "What do you think it was? Did we add more cinnamon this time, or...?"

"No, I think all it really needed was you." He gave you a small smile, enjoying the way your eyebrows shot up and a faint color came to your cheeks. He wasn't one to give out poetic speech on any occasions and found himself embarrassed and flustered by his own words. He did his best to hide this well.

For a moment, you didn't respond. Then you returned the smile with a small flattered one, different from your others, gentle and fond. He found himself liking the warmness of your gaze, though it made him feel oddly flustered.

What he didn't know was that a foreign but familiar affection was fluttering in your chest as you sat there with the fire monster, sharing a pie you'd made together.


	12. Advice

You peered in through the windows of Grillby's anxiously, willing Grillby to step away from his post beside Sans, if just for a moment. You really, really needed to talk with the skeleton, without Grillby being curious about it or knowing what about. It was important that he didn't know. 

Yes! There was your chance! Grillby stepped to the other end of the bar, serving some rabbit monster a tall glass of beer. You ripped the door open, practically running your way to the bar and over to Sans. You grabbed his sleeve and proceeded to drag him across the floor, heading for the door.

"Hi, Sans, how's it going, listen, I really need to talk to you about something, okay?"

The skeleton, allowing himself to be weaved through tables, was heavy in your grip, like a sack of potatoes. "okay." He chuckled out, grinning lazily.

You thought you saw Grillby watching you shove the doors open from over the heads of several monsters, but you were already outside and that was all that mattered. Out here, he couldn't hear you.

"alright, wheres the fire?" Sans reclined against one wall, giving you an amused look. You shot him a look. How dare he not take this seriously!

"Sans, this is important!"

"oh, of course, important enough for you to lurk outside for fifteen minutes before suddenly running inside like a chicken with its head cut off and drag me out here like someone just discovered the body. that doesn't look suspicious at all."

"Sans!"

"alright, alright, i'm listening." 

You took a deep breath, pressing your hands together. "Alright. Alright. Okay. But, before I say anything, you have to promise you won't tell Grillby."

His lazy grin turned to one of confusion. "what? why not? what's this got to do with him?"

"Just promise! It's important."

"alright, alright. i promise." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "i don't like making promises, you know."

"I know. But it's important that he doesn't know."

"alright, shoot."

You took another deep breath, closing your eyes. "I think... I might... You know, um... Have a thing. For Grillby?" When there was no response, you cracked one eye open to look at him. He was giving you a grin like you'd told him you'd gotten him what he always wanted for Christmas and he didn't believe it.

"... seriously?"

You huffed, flushing in embarrassment as you crossed your arms. "Yeah, go ahead and laugh, loud, annoying human has a thing for the silent fire monster that owns his own business."

"no, wait, are you serious right now?" His grin was broadening, ever so slowly. 

"Yes? Sans, why would I lie about that?" Your look changed to one of befuddlement. 

And his whole face lit up, like someone had flicked a switch and turned their Christmas lights on. And he threw his head back and laughed, whole hearted and merry. "oh, this is great! this is just... great!"

"No! No it's not!" His mood swings were really starting to throw you off. How could he not see what was wrong with this?

He paused, expression falling slightly. "... it's not?"

"No! Sans, come on!" You threw your hands up. "Be serious here! It's not like I could ever get together with someone like him anyway! This just might fuck up our friendship!"

"that's what you're worried about?" He got this look on his face, that face he makes when it's like he knows something. 

"Uh, duh?" You made a hopeless gesture, wondering how on earth he could be so thick. "Come on, Sans. Besides, I don't I... I mean, with the way my last relationship ended up, I don't think..." You rubbed at your arms, looking away. 

_'Broken little chatterbox,' _whispered the tires of a car as it sped past, in a very familiar voice. You cringed.__

"hey, listen. whatever that last scumbag did to you, don't blame yourself for it. it ain't your fault for being pulled in. bad people are like... poisoned candy. imagine there's a bag of candy, and a small portion are poisoned, and there's no way to tell if they're poisoned until after you eat them. for a long time, you get nothing but good candy. then one day, you get a bad one. does that mean you should just stop eating candy all together?" 

He had a point, surprisingly enough. "... I suppose not." 

"all it means is that you'll be more careful in the future. how long have you known Grillby? a year?" 

"About that." 

"do you really think he's the kind of guy to do bad shit like whatever your last guy did?" 

You turned to look in at the bar. Grillby was back at his usual place, seemingly waiting for you and Sans to reappear. A plate of fries was already waiting for you. His head turned to look at the doors, then you caught him tilt his wrist, checking his watch as if to make sure you weren't gone long enough for him to be concerned. Your heart fluttered in your chest. "... No." You sighed out, looking away. 

With the skins of your worries being pulled away, it was beginning to show just how silly they were. I mean, this was Grillby you were talking about! The cute, smart, nice, sweet fire monster that liked to bake and wasn't immune to being playful if he so wished. He was nothing at all like... him. 

_'Obnoxious, broken little...'_

"exactly. listen, i've known the guy for forever, and i've not once see him do someone a bad turn just because. he's smart and he's fair and he's let me keep my tab for God knows how long now." Sans chuckled, seemingly thinking of some fond memory. "he ain't a bad guy. and, to be honest, you've got more a chance than you think." 

You gave him a disbelieving look. "You think?" 

"i know. trust me. come on, let's go inside." And with that, Sans pushed the door open and stepped inside, pausing to wait for you. You went hesitantly after, feeling incredibly silly. 

You sat at the bar with obvious reluctance, avoiding Grillby's gaze. You didn't notice the concerned look he shot Sans questioningly, and you missed the knowing grin Sans gave back.

"Thanks for the fries, fireball." You eventually got out, giving him a half-hearted smile. He dipped his head in the way you had come to know meant he was giving you a little smile that he didn't want you to see. 

"by the way." Sans said at one point, directing his attention to you. "i saw something interesting earlier." 

"Oh, yeah?" You grinned. Normally this meant he had a question he wanted to word as a statement to rouse up a philosophical talk. 

"i was walking the kid home from school..." 

Soon you were bouncing ideas and jokes off of Sans and Grillby like you usually did, laughing as you forgot your previous anxiety. At one point, you were coming down from a laugh when you noticed Grillby looking at you. From the tilt of his head, he was giving you another little smile. Blinking, you returned one fondly, raising an eyebrow. 

All he did was chuckle, but you noticed the smile stay on his face. What you failed to notice was the way his flames flickered faintly brighter when you had smiled at him like that.


	13. Joke chapter

"okay, but have you considered just kissing them?"

"... Sans."

"i'm serious, have you considered that as an option? like, just break down their door and swoop them into your arms while romantic music swells in the background..."

"Sans."

"fine, fine. okay, here's what you should do- you bake them a pie but cut it into the shape of a heart. then, you go up to their door and just as they answer... throw it in their face."

"..."

"and say 'that's how it feels to be in love with you. go out on a date with me. we can have hot sex afterwards.'"

"..."

"i'm kidding. not about the sex part, though. you seriously must be smoking in bed."

"Sans. This is ridiculous."

"tell them a fire pun. like... 'you set me ablaze. let's have hot interspecies sex.'"

"I'm leaving."

"aw, come on, Grillbz! it's just a joke."

"Then you are a very poor comedian."

"bro."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I am very tired.


	14. AUTHORS NOTE

This fic is now on a temporary hiatus until I get my life together (I'm debating making another reader fic, one with Papyrus as the love interest, since I just finished one I had been aiming to complete for a long time, but at the same time, I dunno if I can even handle that right now tbh, but at the same time I rEALLY WANT TO KILL ME I AM SIN). 

Please enjoy the complimentary elevator music while you wait.


	15. Another authors note

Holy shit it's been a while 

Like

21 days???

I'm sorry it's taking so long. :( i've had midterms and,, life stuff going on for a while, but with Easter break in sight, look forward to seeing a new chapter soon!

Got something you want to see? Drop a prompt or scenario in the comments and I'll see what I can do!!

Thank you for your patience I'm bad I apologize,, ;;


	16. Someone makes a move

You came frolicking in one day, a smile on your face and Smithers wound about your neck. You trotted up to the bar and sat next to Sans, shooting him a smile. He chuckled.

"what's with the look? you and Grillby finally get something done i know should know about?" Sans' eyes flicked from you to the fire monster behind the bar, practically begging for a punch in the face. You scowled at him while Grillby did his best to ignore him.

"Sans, please." You sighed, rolling your eyes. "I'm happy because Smithers has been a huge grump the past few days and she finally decided to let me take her out today and I was feeling pretty good about it, but excuse me for thinking I could smile about something without you turning it into something questionable." 

Sans laughed, even as your fist roughly made contact with his shoulder. Smithers nosed her way out from behind the folds of your jackets collar.

Grillby chucked at the exchange, though he felt twinge at your words. He knew it was a ridiculous thought, that he was jumping to conclusions, that it was entirely childish, but would it really have been so bad to get together with him? 

He quickly dismissed the thought. He shouldn't be so juvenile; who was to say he even had a chance to begin with? You were 'done with love', after all. Besides, he was happy so long as you were happy, relationship or not.

You were busy allowing Smithers to flop from one hand to the next, stretching out her seemingly endless neck first one way then the other. You chuckled when she reached out toward Grillby's warmth, then nearly fell onto the countertop as she became top heavy and lost her balance.

"Looks like she still likes you, fireball." You gave him a grin, soon gathering her up in your hands again as she continued on her quest to Grillby's flames. "Hey, can I get some fries? If you're not, like, busy or anything." 

Grillby chuckled, silently disappearing through the fire escape.

Sans broke into a laugh as soon as he was gone, nudging you. "'if you're not, like, busy or anything.'" He mimicked in a terrible falsetto. "oh my god, you sound like a crushing school girl."

"Oh, shut up, happy meal."

"happy meal? is that really what you just called me? i can't believe what i'm hearing."

"How can you? You don't have ears."

"... wow."

Grillby returned with your fries, setting them carefully in front of you while you gave him a grateful smile, attempting to reign in Smithers as she moved here and there and everywhere over your arms and shoulders. "Thanks, fireball." 

For a while, you sat and ate and chatted with your two monster friends in a rather relaxed, comfortable atmosphere. The whole while, Smithers was going just about everywhere but where you wanted her to be, insistently trying to crawl on top of Sans, make her way down the bar, or trying to bask in Grillby's warmth. 

Sans didn't quite appreciate having a snake so close to sliding up his sleeves. Eventually, he settled for shoving his hands in his pockets. 

"Smithers, please!" You laughed, attempting to juggle her between your hands at one point. "This is ridiculous." 

Grillby reached out and ran his fingers along the top of her head to the gentle slope of her neck. She quickly melted under the touch, relaxing against your hands. You breathed a sigh of relief, giving him an amazed smile.

"You're magic in more ways than one, fireball." You ignored Sans stifled snickers and suggestive looks, instead opting to study Grillby for a moment. "You want to hold her? She doesn't bite, I promise. Besides, she's like putty in your hands." You laughed the last part, extending the snake to him. "It's alright if you don't."

He hesitated, then extended his hands and gingerly picked up the coiled mess of brown scales from your hands. He carefully drew the snake closer to his chest, cradling her in two hands as she flicked out her tongue contentedly. He was aware of Sans looking at him as if he'd lost his mind the entire time.

The snake slowly looked from side to side, blinking dreamily as if she felt as though the heat was heaven. He chuckled, running his thumb along her 'back' slowly, watching her head droop slightly under the touch.

"I knew she'd relax as soon as you got your hands on her." You laughed, giving him a tender smile. "Feel free to let her lay on your shoulder. She likes feeling tall, I think."

He paused, then followed the advice as a monster waved from down the bar. She quickly found a way to balance there and clung tightly as he walked briskly down the bar, soon refilling the monster's glass before he returned. The monster- a rather tipsy bunny who had stayed with him since the underground- eyed the new addition to his get up curiously, then snickered when Smithers flicked out her tongue as the glass was filled. 

"Like your new friend, Grillby." They eventually sputtered out, grinning at the snake before picking up their glass and taking a swig. 

He smiled to himself as he walked back to your spot at the counter. He was rather glad it was slow tonight; it gave him more of an opportunity to loiter around you with Smithers acting as a rather scaly parrot.

As the night went on, Smithers apparently got used to the warmth and got lively again. It started with her moving back and forth across his shoulders, over and around and behind his neck from one perch to the other, to investigating whether she could slide down his arms without falling off. You began to watch her carefully, looking worried.

"You want me to take her back? She can get pretty pesky when she's like this."

He shook his head, rather liking the company of the small snake, even as she trailed back and forth in search of new areas to explore. It was just after he declined the offer that she apparently spotted the gap of his shirt collar and apparently thought it would be a good idea to explore the newfound place.

Under his collar.

Down his shirt.

Over his bare skin.

He froze as soon as slipped under his shirt, not entirely sure what to do as his flames flickered quite noticeably brighter. You locked up as well, staring at where the snake had been in what seemed to be horror.

"Oh my god. Holy shit. Holy shit!" Your hands flew to your face as panic and embarrassment caused your cheeks to flush. "I never thought- oh my god- I'm so sorry, I didn't- I didn't think she would actually-" You buried your face in your hands, silently screaming into your palms.

Meanwhile, Sans was utterly hysterical.

Grillby was aware of the snake sliding over his chest and felt his flames pulse yet brighter, sparks shooting toward the ceiling. You seemed to notice his discomfort and quickly reached out a hand, then pulled it back just as quickly, face completely flushed.

"U-um, you can, she'll, um, she can find her way to one of your sleeves? Sometimes? Or, you can, you can, like, you know, pull her out...? I mean, gosh, I'm so sorry, I never thought she would do that, like, she does it to me, but..." You buried your face in your hands again, looking more sheepish than he'd ever seen you before. "Seriously, I'm sorry, I never thought-"

He held up a hand to quiet you, shaking his head, and turned his attention to his vest. He quickly unbuttoned it, slipping it out of the way as his hands thus focused on the buttons of his shirt. He unbuttoned it half way, then slipped a hand in and scooped up the snake from the curve of her back now visible against his skin. He realized you were staring at him- still red in the face- as he cradled the snake in one hand as he tried to work out where to put her now.

You were staring at him as if you'd never seen him before. He realized exactly what he'd just done- right in front of you, no less! At the very least he could have turned around or gone where you couldn't see!- and attempted to crush the flaring of his flames as he avoided eye contact with you. He passed the snake to you and you ducked your head, tucking the snake close to your chest. He hastily buttoned up his shirt again, closing his vest around his middle perhaps too quickly.

Sans was wheezing against the counter by this time.

"Aha ha... I am so sorry. Like, seriously. Oh my god. That is the last time I bring you out anywhere." You scowled at the snake wiggling about in your hands, cheeks still dark as you dipped your head. "Oh my gosh. Well. Okay. I'll- um- I'll see you guys. Smithers is about to get the longest time out of all time." 

With that, you flew out of your seat and out the door, avoiding everyone's gazes the entire time. Grillby slapped a hand across his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Sans was still laughing breathlessly, practically falling out of his seat. 

"oh. my god." He wheezed out, grinning from ear to ear. "i wish id gotten that on camera. hooooly shit. that was priceless. damn, nice pecks, though. i am like, 100% sure you'll win them over if you show up on their doorstep shirtless. like, they'd swoon on the spot. i guarantee it."

"Sans." Grillby sighed, giving the skeleton an exasperated look.

"listen, trust me when i say that look they gave you when practically took your shirt off practically screams 'take me, i'm yours.' or infatuation. take your pick."

"Sans."

"listen, i'm being serious, here. trust me for once when i say you should say something. alright? if they turn you down, you have my permission to kick me out for till the end of time."

Grillby ran a hand over his face, wanting nothing more than a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ,,, sorry this is shit lol


	17. Snowdin

"Okay, but what's it like where you came from?"

"what, you mean underground?"

"Well, generally, I suppose, but I mean, like... What region did you come from, and what it's like? Are there things you remember fondly, or things you remember bitterly, etcetera?"

"we both came from Snowdin, which was always covered in, you guessed it, snow."

"Oh, you mean like what it's like outside right now?" 

You twisted in your seat to peer out the windows at the front of the bar, where you could see fat, heavy snowflakes coming down in sheets. Already, snow was piling in drifts against the buildings nearby.

"sort of, except it was constant."

"Wow! That must have been cool, if you catch my drift." You nudged the skeleton jokingly, who snorted at the pun.

"you have snow idea."

"Must have chilled you to the bone."

Grillby rolled his eyes, though he chuckled quietly under his breath at the montage of puns. Normally, he couldn't bring himself to laugh or groan at the 'jokes,' but having you be the one spouting them out made them much more tolerable. He found he might have even been enjoying it.

That was, until Sans shot him a look that could almost be interpreted as challenging. Grillby raised an eyebrow at him, which Sans answered by wiggling his. It was then that Grillby realized he was interpreting the look wrong as Sans laid an arm around your shoulders, then chuckled something into your ear. You responded with another spiel of laughter. 

Grillby did his best to ignore what Sans was very obviously trying to do. He knew the skeleton was getting tired of waiting for something to happen, but 'flirting' with you in an attempt to get a rouse out of him wasn't going to work. It wasn't. That would be ridiculous. 

Eventually, Sans lifted his arm from around you and made for the door. 

"Be careful getting home, bone bag. It's really coming down at there."

"i can handle it. see ya."

Sans worked the door open and trudged through the snow piled there into the outside, and quickly disappeared behind the flurries of quarter-sized snowflakes. You watched after him for a moment, then turned back to the bartender. You smiled as you swirled your straw around inside your drink, seemingly lost in thought.

"It hardly ever comes down like that around here. It's pretty amazing to see. The last time we got more than a few inches was like, ten years ago."

Grillby glanced outside. The only indicator that the outside world still existed was where the snowflakes turned orangey yellow around the street lamp. 

"... You should head home. Before it gets worse."

You shook your head. "Nah, I'll be fine. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you walk home by yourself? I mean, snow is water." You gave him a wry, teasing smile.

He tried to insist, but you would have none of it. Eventually, he gave in and allowed you to stay as the last of the few monsters that came in that night trickled out into the snow. The wind rattled against the walls outside, but you seemed more awed than cowed. In fact, you seemed to love the snow storm, despite its inconvenience. He wondered, briefly, how much you would have liked it if you had spent the majority of your life with such things. 

Still, he didn't mind the dreamy smile on your face. In fact, it was rather nice.

You helped him clean the table tops and put the chairs up and out of the way. You gathered the glasses and mugs scattered around and brought them back to the bar, but as you were placing them down, the lights flickered and went off. You both glanced up in surprise, then you gave him a wry smile.

"Well, hey, good thing you're made of fire, otherwise we'd be working in the dark."

He chuckled in response, grabbing his coat and making for the door, with you close behind. When you made to push the door open, however, it rattled in the frame but wouldn't budge. You stepped back in surprise, then tried it again, digging in your heels and pushing against it with your shoulder. After a moment, you stepped back and scratched the back of your head, seemingly at a loss as what to do.

"I guess we're snowed in? It must have piled up against the door...?" 

Grillby put his weight against it, but, as before, it wouldn't budge. When you tried it together, it scrapped open an inch, and stopped again. It was visible, now: the snow had piled up in a large drift against the door and effectively sealed it shut. No amount of pushing would make it move again. You stepped back, puffing.

"Well, shoot. We really are snowed in. Or, maybe, Snowdin?" You gave him a sheepish smile, apparently attempting to lighten the mood. It quickly fell and you rubbed the back of your neck. "So... What now?"

Grillby wasn't sure. He wasn't sure how to feel about being trapped alone with you, for god knows how long. No matter how he tried to rationalize his thoughts, he couldn't help the sparks crackling out of his flames.

Suddenly, you snapped your fingers, fished around in your pocket for a moment, then sat as you shuffled a deck of cards in your hands. You gave him a smile, gesturing broadly to the floor in front of you. As he sat carefully on the tiles, you checked to see if you had all the cards.

"I used to play card games with my dad whenever the power went out, and after a while I got good at it. In case we ever have a slow day at work, I carry a deck with me so I can practice, i guess." You smiled sheepishly, straightening the deck. "So, what game do you wanna play first?"

He smiled softly, positioning himself comfortably as you leafed the cards. 

 

"Go fish."

Grillby slipped another card from the deck, rearranging his handful of cards. You switched yours around for a moment, then looked up. 

"Got any threes?" 

He pulled two cards out of his hand and passed them to you, which you grinned at. It was nice, how you seemed so pleased at such a simple thing as a game of cards. You seemed to be gradually getting tired- as was he- as time went slowly past. Your phone was dead, but it was dark enough outside for him to assume it was either late night or very early morning. Still, you didn't seem bothered.

"Have any aces?"

"Shoot. I was hoping you wouldn't ask." You chuckled, passing him three of your cards. He stacked them together, then set them beside him, out of the way. You rearranged your cards a few times, eyelids drooping. "Hm. Have any... fives?"

"... Go fish."

You chuckled again, reaching out and taking a new card. You put your cards down for a moment, breathing onto your hands. He raised an eyebrow when you stuffed your fingers into your jacket pockets, hunching your shoulders slightly.

"... Something the matter?"

You shook your head, taking your hands out and clutching them together a moment. "No, my hands are cold, that's all. It's a bit chilly in here." 

He felt a prickle of guilt. Of course he wouldn't have realized it; he was made of fire. He should have been more considerate, should have thought about how you must feel with the electricity out and the wind still roaring outside. What could he do about it?

"... Come here."

You raised an eyebrow as he lowered his own cards and pushed them off to the side, but got up and shuffled around to sit beside him. You sat, legs folded underneath you, and gave him a questioning look. 

He held out a hand to you, which made your confused expression deepen, but you hesitantly put a hand in his. He held out his other, and you did the same. Enfolded together, your hands fit nicely in his own. His were marginally larger than yours, though he couldn't have cared less as he cradled them. After a moment, he glanced up to read your expression. Your eyes were drooping tiredly, but your cheeks were faintly colored.

"... Thanks. That's much better. I can actually feel my fingers now." You chuckled at the last part, clearly joking.

He nodded, and, after a moment, let go of one of your hands. You went to pull your hands away, but he kept his hold on your remaining hand. When you gave him another confused look, he opened his free arm to you in a silent gesture. You seemed surprised, and the color on your cheeks darkened, but, after a moment of hesitation, you inched closer and brushed up against his side. He dropped your hand and closed his arms around you, effectively pushing you against his side.

You fit nicely against him in many ways, he noted. After a moment of being awkward and tense in his grasp, you relaxed and laid your head against his collar bone. If he was honest, he would admit he didn't mind it in the slightest. He hoped you didn't notice the brightening of his flames. 

For a while, all was quiet. When he glanced down to catch your expression, your eyes were closed.

"This is nice." You eventually whispered out. He nodded slightly in agreement. His flames crackled when you nuzzled slightly closer to him. "Thanks."

"... It's not a problem."

It didn't take long for you fall asleep, laying against him like that. For a long time, he stayed awake, watching the snow drift more slowly past outside. Then, he followed you into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed this lol sorry
> 
> I think someone asked for a 'snowed in' chapter? Well, this is what you get. Sorry if it's not what you wanted.


End file.
